


The Best of the Worst

by prettyboiiharringrove



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Harringrove, M/M, harringrove fic, idk what this is tbh it just happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 06:08:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17258978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyboiiharringrove/pseuds/prettyboiiharringrove
Summary: Steve Harrington is the best of the worst, or maybe the worst of the best, and he's going to be the death of Billy, but there are more important things to worry about, and he can't afford to be selfish anymore, so for his sister's sake, he'll swallow his pride and face the stupid asshole again.





	The Best of the Worst

Steve Harrington is the California sun warming his golden skin. He’s the chilled ocean filled with mysterious depth and comforting him, keeping him from drowning himself despite how easy it’d be to just…stop swimming. He’s the nice summer rain soothing his burning, mottled skin. He’s Vaseline on his chapped, frozen lips. He’s a soothing balm on his too big bruises. He’s a warm coat in the harsh Indiana winter. He’s a tissue to wipe his tears in and a safe place to hide.

Steve Harrington is a huge pain in the ass that sticks his cold feet under Billy’s ass and says cruel things without thinking only to pout when he’s apologizing later and cry because he feels so guilty.

Steve Harrington is the absolute fucking worst and Billy misses him like a mangled leg. He’d rather it go septic and poison him than for it to be taken away completely. He realizes that the metaphor is a bit insensitive and he would never say it out loud because he’s a better person now or whatever bullshit — he only changed for Steve and they’re not even together anymore but he can’t find it in himself to go back to being the same old asshole — but a few days ago he had a panic attack so severe he found himself sobbing into the toilet bowl as he emptied the contents of his stomach into it, so it feels accurate.

He doesn’t like being this dependent on someone, he knows it’s probably not healthy and definitely pathetic, but he still loves Steve and it’s fucking killing him.

Steve calls him. Billy’s heart is pounding in his chest and he thinks he might be sick again but he has to hear his voice.

“What do you want?” He growls, voice rough from too many cigarettes and even more panicked breaths. It’s not what he means to say.  _I’m sorry, I should have gone with you, please come home, I love you._

“Something’s happened to Max.”

It’s not the first thing he expects to hear out of Steve’s mouth, it’s certainly not what he wants to hear, but it’s all he needs to hear to pull out his laptop and start looking up plane tickets to get him back to Hawkins.

“What?!”

“I-it’s bad Billy, I mean like sh-she’s fine, or she will be but like, fuck it’s bad.”

“Just tell me what happenen!!”

“I…she told me – fuck you just need to get here.”

Billy doesn’t say anything, just mindlessly types away at the keys, crossing his fingers that there’s a flight to Indiana tonight and praying that he’s got enough money in his bank account to get it.

“Look I know you said you’d never come back here,” if Billy weren’t so concerned – and so desperate to hear Steve’s voice – he’d probably correct Steve, point out that they both agreed to leave it behind them. For fuck’s sake, until five minutes ago Billy thought he was in Florida, or that maybe he’d fucked off to New York like they’d talked about; Steve always said the one thing he missed about Hawkins, other than his collection of freaks for friends, was having a White Christmas.

“Steve,” he whispers, trying to cut him off, trying to assure him that he’ll be there soon; he’d be there in a heartbeat if he could.

“And I know that I lied to you, and I left you behind, and I really fucked up – ”

“ _Steve_ ,” Billy presses, hoping he might start listening.

“Like I know you’re really happy without me, and you’re finally home, and I’m like the last person you want to see, I mean you probably fucking hate me but – ”

“Fuck’s sake Harrington, will you shut the fuck up?!” Billy barks and Steve gasps, finally tuning in. Billy sighs into the receiver.

“Max’s really needs you man…” Steve practically whispers those last few words and Billy leans back against his headboard, brushing a hand through his messy hair. He needs to have it cut again; he forgot that Steve’s the one who normally makes his hair appointments.

“If you would have just took a breath and listened, you’d know that I already bought a ticket,  _man_ ,” Billy rolls his eyes and Steve chuckles because he knows that Billy doesn’t like when Steve calls him that. Steve thinks it’s a stupid thing to get annoyed about, and Billy’s cute when he’s annoyed, so he never really stopped doing it. Billy feels a warmth bubble up in his chest at Steve’s brief little burst of laughter. It’s the only thing that’s sheltered him from the lingering, phantom cold brewing and burrowing around him while he’s been alone.

“When are you coming?” Steve’s voice turns serious again and somehow Billy knows he’s chewing his lip and probably playing with the hem of his shirt nervously.

“I should be there by 2AM, it’s  the only one I could afford. You mind picking me up?” Billy half expects him to hang up, or maybe send Hopper or Tommy, or even Wheeler if it means he doesn’t have to face Billy. He patiently, but nervously, awaits his ex-lover’s answer.

“Yeah, o-of course, whatever you need,” he’s surprised to hear the shock and hope in Steve’s voice.

“Yeah, uh, cool thanks Stevie, I guess I should pack then, huh?”

“Yeah probably. So…I’ll let you go then,” Billy finds it oddly satisfying that Steve doesn’t seem to want to hang up. Truthfully, he never wants to put his phone down. He wants to listen to Steve’s voice until he passes out.

“I’m not happy here, not without you,” he whispers, thinking Steve’s already hung up. “And God knows I could never hate you, trust me, I’ve tried…” all the things he’s thought to say to Steve, he’s whispered hopelessly into the dark knowing Steve will never hear; he assumes these are just more of his unheard confessions.

“I’m sorry,” Steve whispers and Billy nearly chokes, at the sound of his voice. He didn’t mean to say those things to Steve, to force him to put up with more useless feelings. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“It felt like you did,” Billy answers with far more honesty than he’d like. “You killed me Steve.”

“I didn’t mean to, I-I loved, I l _ove_  you Billy.”

Billy freezes. Steve’s never said it before; he was too afraid of falling into a trap of more bullshit, whatever the fuck that means. Everything feels like bullshit these days.

“K-keep an eye on Max for me, okay? It’d mean a lot to me. I’ll see you soon.”

Billy hangs up without waiting for a response. Steve’s words don’t bring a comfort or warmth he always thought they would. It’s too late, he’s been alone for too long. It hurts. Steve’s words are a noose tightening around his neck more and more with each breath and he just knows that if he says those four words –  _I love you too_  – it’ll be fatal; those words are the stool keeping him standing and saying them will kick it right out from under him.


End file.
